


Heart Of Mine

by panicparade



Category: Panic! at the Disco, Young Veins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Trope: Kidfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicparade/pseuds/panicparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He keeps his eyes closed and his head ducked under the covers, wanting to hold onto the wonderful dream he’d been having where he is back home in bed with his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart Of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> For the Kid!Fic square on my [Trope_Bingo Card](http://panicparade.dreamwidth.org/713.html)  
> Title is a song by _The Young Veins._  
>  Beta-ed by the awesome
> 
> [ **clockworkmayhem** ](http://clockworkmayhem.livejournal.com/)   
> 
> 
> Also on [DW ](http://panicparade.dreamwidth.org/941.html) and [LJ ](http://bloodisshrp.livejournal.com/4086.html). 

Brendon wakes up to the smell of pancakes and for a moment he thinks he’s back on the bus and it’s just another one of those days on tour when you wake up around one, the sense of time having been warped somewhere around the third day, eat something that qualifies as food and get ready for another day of rehearsals, performing, sweaty and cramped empty bunks. He bites down a sigh. Spencer’s making pancakes and that’s a reason in itself to be happy, especially when all he’s been relying on is food that comes in boxes for the past few days. But he keeps his eyes closed and his head ducked under the covers, wanting to hold onto the wonderful dream he’d been having where he is back home in bed with his family. It’s not that he didn’t like touring - he wouldn’t give it up for anything, and he considers himself lucky to have someone who understands just how important music is for him and has never once made him feel like he has to choose between them and his career.

He’d justlike to _have_ some more time with his family, and actually be able to hold his husband instead of having to be content with seeing him laughing and talking about his day on the screen of his laptop, cuddling in bed with their son who is growing up each day, and it hurts that he isn’t there to see him try out new things. 

He presses his face closer into his pillow, trying to breathe in a scent that has long faded away but one he can never forget, and he can smell it now; strong and sweet, filling up his nostrils and _when did his imagination get so strong?_ It’s also around this time that he realises his bed is way too soft to be his bunk and he can’t feel the slight motion of wheels that’s ever present when he’s on the road. He slowly lowers the blanket off his head and opens his eyes to a photo of his wedding day, big and framed on his bedside table and that’s when it hits him that it wasn’t a dream; he really is home.

He smiles and stretches in _his bed_ , looking around the room that’s almost the same way he left it, only a little neater and less messy because his way of saying goodbye to his husband involves the frantic removal of clothing and messed-up bed sheets.  Brendon’s smile fades a little on seeing he’s alone in the room - _where is everyone else?_ That’s when he hears the slight whispers coming in from behind the half-closed bedroom door.

“-but why can’t I wake him up? He promised –”

“He got in late last night baby, let Daddy sleep for some more time. I made you pancakes and we can watch cartoons-”

“No! I want Daddy! He promised on the phone!”

“Okay, how about we go in and check on him? If he’s awake, you can make him get up, otherwise you’ll let him sleep, deal?”

Brendon closes his eyes and turns onto his side, facing away from the door. He knows what’s going to happen now. It’s like their own first-morning-back-home ritual. He keeps his eyes shut even as he hears the door open completely and the soft noises of socked feet move towards the bed. He keeps them shut even when he feels someone climb onto the bed from his side and move to sit in front of him. 

“Daddy?” Small fingers touch his face softly, wanting to check if he’s awake but not wanting to wake him up. Somewhere behind him he hears someone else come and sit behind, feels his husband’s weight as he leans across him to look at their son.

“Is he awake?”

Brendon hears the voice he misses so much on the road, telephone and speakers doing it no justice. He can hear the smile clearly in the voice. A small finger pokes his cheek once, twice and when Brendon still doesn’t move he can feel the small body move away from him, probably now pouting at his other father, which is when he feels the pressure applied to his arm and that’s his cue. Before his son can move any further away, Brendon pulls him back, small shrieks and chuckles filling the air as he tickles his son and enjoys the sound of his laughter, which he’s hardly gotten to hear in the past few months.

“Daddy! Daddy, stop! Dad, help me!!”  And Brendon knows there’s no way he can win this now, so he gives up and lies down on his back as his son clambers over him and within minutes Brendon finds himself gasping for breath as feels two bodies settle on top of him. Rubbing the tears from his eyes, Brendon looks up and sees two pairs of hazel eyes staring back at him; both of them would look identical if Chris didn’t have Brendon’s hair and nose (also his taste in food, his endless energy, love for all things Disney and the colour red, as he was often reminded). In Brendon’s eyes, Christopher James Urie is the perfect combination of both his fathers.

“Daddy, I missed you.” Chris leans forward and lays down on Brendon’s chest, who then wraps his arms around his son and hugs him tight. He looks up to see Ryan smiling down at the two of them and they just stare at each other for a moment. Brendon had come in late last night - he could have waited like Spencer could catch the morning flight the next day - but he couldn’t give up the opportunity to sleep an extra day in their bed, and they hadn’t gotten a chance to actually see each other, get their fill before they tumbled into bed - Brendon exhausted by tour and travel and Ryan tired after another day of handling a four year old.

“Yeah, Daddy I missed you too,” Ryan says with a smirk on his face, which Brendon wants to wipe off with ways that would leave them both tired. Instead he says, “How about you show me just how much you missed me later?”, eyes filled with promises that make Ryan smile widely.

As Chris begins to move, Ryan gets off Brendon, who instantly misses the added weight, and leans down to kiss Brendon and then Chris. “I’ve made pancakes and I’d like to see the two of you down in 15 minutes, are we clear?” he says, his voice stern, making sure they know he means business. So Brendon grabs Chris off of him, makes him brush his teeth and carries him down to the kitchen, a habit that Ryan is trying to rid him of because he knows that it makes it harder for Ryan when he isn’t here.

As he settles at the table, sipping his coffee and watching Chris argue about going to beach _now_ and Ryan trying to placate him by putting extra chocolate sauce on his plate and promising they could leave as soon as he was done, Brendon has never felt his life being more _right_ than now. He glances up to see his favourite boys staring at him, Chris impatiently if his spoon tapping at Brendon’s hand is any indication and Ryan with an amused expression on his face. 

“I’m sorry baby, what were you asking?” Brendon gives Chris back his spoon and starts on his plate of pancakes.

“We’re going today, right? You promised!!” Chris asks him, food long forgotten as he turns all his attention towards Brendon. Brendon is clueless and his eyes dart towards Ryan for help, who smiles and points at a flyer on the door of the refrigerator.

_Sand Castle Building Contest for Kids!_

And he remembers Chris babbling excitedly about this on the phone a week back. He hadn’t given the phone to Ryan till Brendon had promised he would take him, _because Dad doesn’t know how to build sand castles._ Brendon looks back at Chris who is waiting for him to answer, and honestly, how can he not agree?

They are at the beach within an hour, Brendon and Chris carrying buckets and spades while Ryan carries their bags. No amount of pleading from Brendon has changed Ryan’s decision to take no part in the contest, and he’d said, “I would like to spend a day _not_ having sand flung onto my face, Bren. It’s your turn.”

As Brendon signed up for Chris, Ryan sets up a blanket for himself and gets ready to settle down to get some writing done. His agent is calling him every day, nagging him and trying to get him to write something. He falls asleep while writing and wakes an hour later, his back warm from the sun, and rolls over before he can get sunburnt. He glances over to where Chris and Brendon are and laughs when he sees Brendon glaring at the kid with the spot next to theirs, who seems to be having more fun flinging sand at the people around him while his father is busy on the phone.

Chris doesn’t win because the sand flinging kid had fallen into their castle, and while he seems okay with it, content with rambling on about the seagulls, Brendon is sulking so Ryan decides it’s time for ice cream. Which turns into them having dinner at Chris’s favourite place, where the staff gave him loads of puzzle mats (some of which Brendon might have used) and a balloon. By the time they get back home, Chris has already fallen asleep in his car seat and Ryan has to be careful not to wake him up as he carries him back in, Brendon locking up the house behind him.

Ryan debates whether to wake Chris up for a bath or not - he’s really covered with sand - when he’s spared the decision by Brendon almost tripping over Theo, their 2 year old Beagle, who yips and tries to bite his ankles, cursing loud enough to wake their son up. Before Chris can start crying, Ryan shushes him and asks Brendon, whose looking like he rolled around in sand all day instead of just building a sand castle, to run the bath.

While Brendon gets the both of them cleaned up, Ryan locks up the rest of the house, fills Theo’s bowl and takes his journal out of the bag, putting it on the table so that he doesn’t lose it. He doesn’t bother getting Chris’s bed ready for him; he’s pretty sure Chris won’t be using it tonight. Brendon hasn’t been able to spend much time with Chris these past few months so he tries to spend as much as possible with him when he’s around.

Sure enough, when he finally gets to their room, Brendon and Chris are already in bed, Chris asleep with his fists curled up in Brendon’s shirt, who is stroking his hair and singing softly.  Ryan stands at the door and stares at his family, still amazed at how everything turned out better than he could have ever imagined. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, just as I was about to post it and I was rereading it once I realised that if you _squint_ it can be taken as _implied mpreg_ which I know a lot of people aren't very fond of so but It's not very obvious or even mentioned at all, it's just, if you like mpreg you can take it that way and if you don't, well then chances are you won't even notice it.Still, if you think I should add a warning for it lemme know and I will. :)  
>  {and I suck at summaries.} 
> 
> Thank You for reading!!


End file.
